


100 Little Moments

by Lebreau



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Drabbles, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-03-11 03:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 8,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3311858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lebreau/pseuds/Lebreau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stolen seconds and quiet meetings. {100 themes challenge from DeviantArt with Lux/Talon} - Current drabble: 26) Tears</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

A strange whistling sound filled her ears seconds before she felt the warm body at her back. Confusion started to settle in, until the whistling stopped and the blades returned to the body, tearing through her as a longer one, almost a sword attached to his arm, pierced the armor covering her stomach. "It's a shame we're playing for opposite sides," he whispered in her ear. "You're quite pretty."  
  
His low voice was the last thing she heard as she faded into a beam of light, her summoner preparing to revive her.  
  



	2. Love

She wasn't quite sure if that's what it was. She'd never felt this before, and it was strange. Love was supposed to fill you with happiness and warmth and make you stronger. It wasn't supposed to cause fear and lies and anger that was directed at no one but hurt her all the same. For them, love was sneaking around and stealing moments, pretending to hate each other in front of everyone they knew. Sharing their feelings with only each other and the darkness.

But still, it was theirs, and it was all she had.


	3. Light

Her entire being was comprised of the damned stuff. He had never realised that such brightness could be so smothering, so alienating. It threw him off, as she tended to, and it was not a feeling that he was fond of - or one he felt often. This little girl, a small blonde ball of energy, was ruining him slowly, worming her way in and making him care again. She had no right, really, affecting him this way.

But of course, if he voiced these thoughts to her, she'd laugh softly and say that everyone needed a little light in their life, a bright spot. And she was his.


	4. Dark

When she visited him in the depths of Noxus, it was always pitch black. He had asked her very politely, in the quiet growl she loved, to refrain from illuminating the room like an Ionian festival. She answered him with a bright smile as she stowed her baton in the entryway and followed him into the dim home.

She'd never let him know, and she'd deny it if he asked, but she liked the dark of his house. It let her forget that she was anything but his.


	5. Seeking Solace

A soft knocking noise got more insistant, rousing him from sleep and sending him stumbling to the door, quietly cursing whoever was calling on him in the dead of night. He pulled the door open quickly, ready to rant and refuse to allow them in. What he got was a soaking wet Lux, tears streaming silently down her face, quietly asking if she could come in. Without a word he stepped to the side, closing the door behind her and pulling the curtains.

"Lux, what..." he trailed off as she stood there, dripping on his floor and shivering.

"C-can I put up some lights? Just this once?" Her voice came out as a barely there whisper as she drew her arms to her body, trying to stop her damnable shaking.  
He nodded and moved past her into the tiny bathroom, collecting an armfull of towels and bringing them back out to her. With his small living room lit up brightly, he could see streaks of dark red in her hair and on her clothes, not quite washed out by the pouring rain.

Noticing his stare, she shook her head and took a towel, covering her face. Her voice was muffled when she asked if she could take a shower, and if he would allow her to stay tonight. His response was to guide her to the bathroom, turning on the water for her and setting out a new set of soap. 

"T..Talon? Would you.. stay in here, please? I don't want..." Her weak voice trailed off as he continued out the door. 

"Going to get you something to wear." He assured her, quickly rounding the corner into his bedroom and picking up the first acceptable clothing he could find. She was already in the shower when he returned, though her head peeked out around the curtain, waiting for him to come back. A small smile, the first he had seen from her so far, lit up her face when he returned, and she ducked back behind the curtain.

Sinking down to the floor behind the door, a million scenarios were running through his mind. Was the blood hers? What was she doing in Noxus on a night like this? Would she even tell him?

Movement jerked him out of his thoughts, and he sprang to his feet... only to see that the movement was her hand reaching out from the shower, looking for a towel. He picked one up and handed it to her, turning to step out of the bathroom so she could get dressed. Settling down on the edge of his bed, she appeared much quicker than he expected, dressed in a Pentakill tshirt that Cassiopeia had given him a few weeks ago and a thin pair of shorts that he used for sleeping. Under different circumstances, seeing her in his clothing would have made him quite joyful. Tonight, it only reminded him of the state she had appeared in.

"Lux?" He questioned softly as she came to sit on the bed next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

The shower seemed to have done her some good, as her voice was much stronger when she answered him. "Not tonight. Can we just go to sleep? I'm sure I woke you."

He nodded, getting into his normal side of the bed and pulling her close. She was going to answer his questions, but they could wait. All that mattered was that she was here and safe.


	6. Break Away

Thud. Thud. Thud. The rhythmic thumping of her foot hitting the tree was all she could concentrate on. She'd been waiting for almost an hour, and he was late. Later than he had ever been before, and he had better have a good reason for it. 

Footsteps and the whisper of a blade filled cape drew her out of their thoughts, and she clutched her baton a little tighter, just in case. There was no need, she soon found out, as he came through the tree and onto the path, glancing around the nearby area for her. Not catching sight of her, he began to turn around, thinking he had missed her entirely. And that was when she struck.

Dropping out of her spot in the tree, she landed neatly behind him, throwing her arms around his neck with some difficulty and whispering a greeting before he could skewer her with his blade for surprising him.  
"You're late." The words were almost flat, but he could barely catch a teasing lilt to them.

"Do you know," he began, turning around to wrap his arms around her and settling down against a tree, "how difficult it is to escape Cassiopeia and Katarina when they have decided it's time to go shopping, and they'd like you to help?"


	7. Heaven

Waking up this way had to be as close to perfect as his life could get. He had no obligations, nothing planned and nothing required of him, for the entire day, and if he so desired, he could spend it all in bed. In bed, with the little blonde minx who had wormed her way into his heart.

He glanced over at her, enjoying the way her pale skin and blonde hair contrasted with his dark purple sheets - sheets that she had made fun of for what felt like hours when she'd first caught sight of them. The memory made him smile as he turned on his side, reaching over to play with a strand of her hair, seeing if she would wake up.

She didn't, being a far heavier sleeper than anyone he had ever met. He tugged lightly on a blonde strand, still getting no response, and gave up. It seemed like he had no choice but to lie here, taking in the way the sun from his small window lit up her hair and made her look like an angel. 

This was definitely as close to heaven as a murderer from the Noxus streets would ever get.


	8. Innocence

She felt fragile and soft and weak, compared to him. Running her hands over the scars on his back and his chest, she wondered why he would want a silly little girl, let alone a Demacian. Not only was she small and soft and fragile, she was sheltered, living the life of a Demacian noble for the majority of her nineteen years. Her life had been hard in other ways, yes, but not in the way his had.

While she picked herself apart, he was content to run his hands over her smooth skin, appreciating the lack of scars, the lack of pain etched into her skin. He enjoyed that her life had been safe, that she was innocent and hadn't seen things that would change her forever. Well, relatively innocent, he mused, thinking about the recent times they had spent together.


	9. Drive

"Talon! Pay attention. We both know I shouldn't have been able to get that hit in!" Katarina barked at him, tossing one of her daggers into the air as she glared in his general direction.

He shrugged, not quite meeting her eyes. "Guess I'm just not into it today, sis. Didn't sleep very well." Of course, he didn't intend to tell her the reason he hadn't slept well. It had something to do with the small blonde in his bed, waiting for him to get back and spend time with her. She hadn't been pleased when his alarm had gone off at quarter to seven and woke her up, somehow.

"It's not just today, Talon. You've been off form for weeks. What's going on?" She stopped fidgeting with her daggers to step closer to him, a look of what he guessed was sisterly concern on her face.

He met her eyes this time, but was careful to keep his tone guarded. "No idea, Kat. Maybe I'm losing my touch." His last remark was delivered with a half smile, but she didn't find it amusing.

"Find your drive, your touch, whatever you want to call it. The general's going to come down hard on us if performance doesn't pick up. I'm worried about you." Her admission of care was muttered and barely audible, but he caught it. She had gone back to playing with her knives, taking her turn at not meeting his eyes.

"It's going to be alright, Kat. Don't worry about me." A twinge of guilt shot through him, but he quickly shook it off. Lux wasn't something to feel guilty about. She gave him more than she could know.


	10. Breathe Again

"Lux? Did you hear me? I would think you would show some emotion at learning of such a success for Demacia."

Her brother's prompting snapped her out of her trance, a trance that mainly consisted of the word "no" repeating through her head.

"I... yes, of course. Who was it that completed the operation, brother?"

Garen launched into an explanation, getting into all of the unimportant military details that he loved. She didn't mind, because his babbling gave her time to run through scenarios in her mind. Captured? There was no way. He had to have a plan. If he didn't, she wasn't sure her heart was ever going to start again.

A shout from outside her chambers drew their attention, and a second later, a servant burst through the door. "General, sir, there's been an escape. The Crown Prince requires your assistance immediately."  
Lux's breath caught in her throat as Garen stood, not daring to meet her brother's eyes.

"Who was it that escaped?" She asked quickly, glancing up at the servant, barely daring to hope.

"The latest one, from the League? The Noxian assassin, my lady."

As Garen left her receiving chamber, Lux let out a long breath she hadn't realised she was holding, and thrust the palms of her hands into her eyes. She was dully aware of the throbbing of her heart as she contemplated what Demacia would do to a traitor.


	11. Memory

Usually, he could hold them back. He could lock the memories, the feelings, into a tiny corner of his mind, where they couldn't bother him as he went about his life. Things were even better when she was around, because he had no reason to think of the pain and fear in his past at all. All he had to do was concentrate on her, run his fingers over her skin and through her hair.

But she couldn't always be around, and he wouldn't dare ask her to spend more dangerous time with him. He'd simply have to be content with getting up at two in the morning and slipping off to the training areas whenever the thoughts resurfaced. Pounding them away into the punching bag, running until he felt like his heart would explode in his chest, and then jogging back home, to fall asleep so exhausted that they couldn't bother him again.

And she never stayed away for long. He could always count on seeing her again, even if he hated to rely on her this way.


	12. Insanity

She had nightmares. Excruciating, vivid nightmares that paralyzed her upon awaking and left her crying for hours, until she sobbed herself back to sleep for a potential round two. He didn't know what to think when she woke up babbling and crying about how it hurt but she couldn't stop, her hand weakly reaching for a baton that wasn't there to cast magic that wouldn't help. Once, he had fetched her baton and regretted it instantly. Using her magic in one of these states only hurt her, drawing a bloodcurdling scream from her lips as she rocked back and forth from the pain. Her hands shot up to her hairline, scratching and digging and almost drawing blood to get the madness out, physical pain to escape what her power was doing to her. And he could only watch, rubbing her back in slow circles in a small effort to comfort her until the sobbing stopped and she curled into his chest, sniffling and apologizing for going crazy, telling him that it was okay for him to leave her.

He never would, even if these episodes scared him half to death and made him want to beg her to leave the League.


	13. Misfortune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have probably mentioned this earlier, but these drabbles are all kinds of disconnected and out of order. Some of them follow together, but for the most part, they're semi-standalone pieces in the same universe.

Her heart dropped into her stomach as she stared at the small sheet of paper on her desk. She had already read the message, sinking onto her bed as the words hit her. On pretty, cream colored stationary, someone had written two words in perfect calligraphy. Two tiny words that could bring her entire world crashing down. She snatched the paper up, folding it into a tiny square, and fled her house quietly. If someone already knew, what was the harm in going to visit him in daylight? It had been an unspoken rule of theirs, to only show up at night, but this was too much for her to handle on her own.

Some immeasurable amount of time later, only marked by the violent thudding of her heart, she knocked on his door. And continued knocking, until he opened it, surprise running through his features as she shoved past him, into the relative darkness of his home.

"We have a problem, Talon." She stated, pushing the folded paper into his hands and beginning to pace. Stalking around his living room in nervous circles, she began wringing her hands in front of her. "I don't know how to handle this, how have we never talked about it? What were we thinking?"

"C'mon, sit down." He sat heavily into his only chair, expecting her to settle onto the couch across from him. Rather than doing as he expected, she stopped abruptly in her pacing and perched herself on the arm of his chair, resting her head against his shoulder. 

"What do we do?" she whispered, fear evident in her voice and body language. Though her pacing had stopped, she continued to wringe her hands anxiously, itching to do something and having no clue what.  
"We... we find out who it is, and what they want. They must want something, or they wouldn't have left you a note. We don't even know if they're talking about us, or about something else in your life." His response was calculated to calm her down; he didn't truly believe that the writer was talking about something else.

Another sigh escaped her, and her hands came up to massage her forehead. "I... what else could it be? Nothing else makes sense."

"I don't know, Lux. But..." He hesitated, afraid of hurting her with what he was about to say. "I think it's best if you go back to Demacia. If they're watching you, or me, coming here like this is only proving what they claim to know."

A barely audible whimper was the response, before she stepped down from the arm of his chair and backed up a few feet, hugging her arms to her stomach. "You're right, I know. But I... no, nevermind."  
Getting to his feet, he closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her. It was a small comfort, but it had to be enough.


	14. Smile

She didn't have to put on a mask for him. He accepted that she wasn't really the bubbly, always happy Demacian princess that so many expected of her. She could cry, she could scream, she could be herself. It was very freeing for her, realising that he didn't actually want anything from her. All he wanted was her, no frills or fake sweetness. It was strange for her, feeling that she was allowed to feel and show whatever she pleased. Fear, anger, despair, glee, nothing was off the table.

Still, as comfortable as he made her, she wondered. Wondered if showing all of her weakness, something had been taught to never do, could really be okay. She compared her openness with him to his guarded feelings and careful hiding, and it scared her. He noticed, naturally, though he refused to pry, choosing to leave her to talk about it when she was ready. And she did, eventually, approaching him almost timidly to ask if she was doing something wrong. He was quick to reassure her, promising to talk to her about problems, to communicate. Her response was still hesitation, used to being lied to and manipulated, but to her own shock, she realised she wanted to trust him. Something told her that what they had was good, and her doubt was a result of her life so far, not anything in between them. She told him as much, as she curled into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, head coming to rest against his shoulder. A genuine smile lit her face as he relaxed, loosely holding her around the waist and enjoying the moment.


	15. Silence

He liked her best when she was quiet. Not because he didn't enjoy hearing her go on and on about anything and everything, but because she was only quiet when she was calm. Usually she was most relaxed when they lay together in his bed, bare skin covered by dark purple sheets with a comfortable silence falling around them. Often she would sigh immediately after, letting her limbs sink into his bed and curling into his side with a small hesitant smile on her lips. He would only stroke her hair, avoiding conversation so as to not ruin the moment.

It gave him a strange sense of pride, how far they had come. Relaxing together in his bed, in his house, instead of stealing moments and kisses at the Institute. They were comfortable, they were right.


	16. Questioning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains very slight self-harm (punching a wall? I don't know if it'll bother people so I'd rather be safe than sorry.) and mentions of light torture.

The first thing she noticed upon waking was that this was not her room at home, nor was it a tent pitched on the cold ground. The clothes she was wearing and the blankets she was wrapped in were familiar, though still not hers, and her hair smelled faintly of him. She sat up slowly, pulling the blankets around her as though she was naked or cold, or perhaps both. She could sense no one in the room, and it scared her. Not much, but enough to be unnerving and send a shiver through her.

"Good morning." His rough voice came from the doorway, oddly formal. He never spoke to her in such a tone when they were alone, and she wondered if coming here had been wrong. If she had angered him. What they had, small and confusing but growing, whatever it was, might not have been strong enough for her to show up in the middle of the night covered in blood.  
"Hi," she whispered back, her voice weak and her throat still raw from the night before. She clutched the blankets closer.

He stayed in the doorway, even as she looked close to tears. Unsure of how to proceed, she decided on asking a question. "Is... is there something wrong? Did I do something?" It took her a few tries to get the words out, tears threatening to spill down her face. She wasn't ready to be a mess in front of him. Last night was enough.

"Something wrong..." he whispered back, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. He didn't meet her eyes, looking everywhere but her face and shaking his head. "I'm not sure, Lux." He stepped out of the doorway now, coming to lean against the wall next to the bed, behind her.  
She swallowed hard before she spoke again. "So I... did do something?"

There was a thud as his fist slammed into the wall, tearing the skin and likely bruising the knuckles. "Tell m... would you tell me what happened last night?" His voice was whisper quiet again, and almost dangerously soft. He didn't intend to frighten her, though he was sure he had.

Turning around to face him, she winced slightly as she glanced at his bleeding knuckles. She didn't believe that he would hurt her, but it did hurt, like a blade twisted somewhere near her heart when she saw him hurt himself in... she wasn't sure if it was anger, or simply a different kind of pain that he couldn't cope with. Regardless, she felt sure that she had caused it, and that hurt her in a different way, more than she thought it could.

Before answering his question, she patted the bed beside her. "Would you.. sit with me? Before I explain?" She added the second part to assure him that she would tell him what had happened, that she was only sort of stalling for time.

He shook his head in reply. He knew he wouldn't hurt her, but he did think her story was going to make him angry. And he didn't like scaring her.  
She withdrew a little further into the blanket, taking a deep breath. "A-alright." The rejection cut into her resolve, shaking it.

"It was just supposed to be an information gathering mission. In and out, just like that. I was prepared for more, of course, I always am. I wasn't ready for one of the guards to bump into me and give chase when my illusions shattered around me. I can bend light until no one can see me, but I can't stop them from feeling me. I wasn't good enough to subdue them, and I had to run." She stopped and looked down at her hands. Coming here had put him at risk if they had managed to follow her.

He folded his arms over his chest, looking down at her. She looked very small, there on his bed curled into herself. "What else?" His voice was still quiet, with an edge to it, but softer than it had been.  
She took another deep breath and pushed her hair out of her face. "I ran until they caught me. They like to use knives when they try to bleed information out of a spy. Lots of knives and little cuts all over, meant to sting and burn but not cause lasting harm so they can try again and again. And if someone cuts too deep, they laugh and bring you a healing potion, force it down your throat and then slice through the newly healed skin. But eventually they took a break. They left me chained to the wall with my baton next to the doorway and the bloody knives on the table in the corner. I took my chance, and called my baton to me so I could escape. And it worked, I ran again, and here I am."

It took all of his self control not to hit the wall again. The throbbing in his hand stopped him, if just barely. He moved slowly towards the bed, giving her time to stop him if she wanted. When she didn't, he sat next to her this time, holding his arms out in an offer if she chose to take it.

This time he was the one to feel the burn of rejection as she shook her head. "Say something," she whispered.

He wasn't sure if he could. His throat was dry and his hands were shaking as he thought of what had happened. He'd never questioned their methods before, but they had never tortured someone he cared about. "I'm sorry." 

"For what Noxus does? Don't be." A small laugh escaped her as she inched closer to him. "Demacia does similar things. They're not as different as they like to pretend."

She slid into his arms this time, and he pressed a kiss into her hair as his hand made small circles on her back. The anger slowly seeped out of him as her eyes closed and her head rested against his chest.

She was fine. They were fine.


	17. Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is ridic I'm so sorry. One of my best friends is a LOSER WHO ENCOURAGES ME.

It was so absurd, she almost wanted to laugh. Giggle until she forgot what she found so funny in the first place. Luxanna Crownguard, the shining star of Demacia's Mages' College, praised for her intelligence and foresight, being so goddamned _stupid._  
  
She made a teenager's mistake, nevermind the fact that she was indeed, technically a teenager. It was completely and utterly unlike her, to overlook something so simple yet important. And now here she was, shaking alone in her bathroom, hoping to see a splash of red.  
  
Of course, they were careful. Well, almost always careful. There were spells for this, medicines, herbs, a thousand ways to prevent consequences. But no, one night of drunkenly forgetting themselves, and it could ruin everything.  
  
She groaned out loud at the thought of telling Talon. As well as she knew him, she had no idea what his response would be. Hell, she wasn't even sure what hers would be. Smacking one of her hands to her forehead, she let out a sigh to accompany the groan. Sitting here talking to herself wasn't making this any easier. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pulled down her leggings.  
Opening her eyes, she breathed a sigh of relief. Praise to whatever gods happened to be listening, she had never been so happy to see blood before in her life.


	18. Rainbow

When you asked her favorite color was, you would get a cheeky smile and a giggle before she answered you. "Rainbow, of course! Haven't you seen my spells?" She'd follow the giggle up with an exaggerated bat of her eyelashes, usually managing to draw a sigh and some regret for even bothering out of whoever asked. It was fun for her, irritating people who asked pointless questions.

Naturally, being a Light mage and scholar as she was, she knew that "rainbow" was not actually a single color. It was a beautiful spectrum, and she did love the effect. But still. Not a real color.

Thinking on it after a flushing summoner turned away from her, embarrassed by her very fake flirting, she tried to come up with a real answer, just for herself. She had always been partial to blue, or perhaps silver in the past, symbolic of Demacia as they were.

A blush spread through her face as she decided. The first color to pop into her head was no longer blue or silver, but a deep, dark purple, reminiscent of a certain assassin's bed sheets.


	19. Grey

Pulling her blankets over her head and burying her face into her pillow, she ignored the knock at the door. Childish, perhaps, but she thought that was her right. They took her childhood away, so she was going to ignore them now, and not feel bad about it. Well, not feel too bad about it.

"Luxanna Crownguard, you have been sulking in there for two days. Enough is enough!" Her mother's sharp voice came through the door and several more raps followed it.

She had no intention of leaving her bed. Being Demacia's golden girl was tiring, damnit, and she was done. Her mother was right, enough was enough. Even worse than having no intention to get out of her bed, she had no motivation. Her mother only wanted her to come out and socialize to keep up appearances, and Lux didn't give a damn about appearances anymore. Their family's image could crash and burn, and it wouldn't hurt her at all.

A softer knock and a much kinder voice broke through her self pity, and she pushed the blankets down. It wasn't her mother or her brother this time, telling her to get out of bed for the sake of her family. It was a... friend, for lack of a better word, and she believed that this friend wanted to help her for her, not for Demacia or the Crownguards or anything else.

"Please, Lux? I'd just like to talk to you for a little while. Five minutes and I'll leave, alright?"

The concern in the voice on the other side of the door finally broke her resolve, and she pushed herself up in bed, the action taking far more effort than it should have. Wrapping her blankets around her body like a protective cocoon, she crossed the room slowly, unlocking the door. As soon as the lock clicked, she retreated back to her bed, picking up her pillow and hugging it to her chest. A fresh bout of tears threatened to spill down her cheeks as she took in the scent of the pillowcase, with it still smelling like him.

"Oh Lux." Her friend came to stand in front of her, seeing the tears in her eyes and responding with pain in her own. "C'mere."

As she was enveloped in a hug and a hand stroked her hair, the dam broke and Lux began to sob, soaking the fabric of the other girl's shirt in what seemed like no time at all.  
"S-sorry, Quinn," she choked out between sobs, clinging to the archer as though her life depended on it.

"Shhh, it's okay. Do you want to talk about what happened? It's alright if you don't, I won't pry. I can just sit with you if it'll help." Quinn rubbed circles into her back through the layers of blankets, unsure if Lux could even tell she was doing it, but feeling that it was the right thing to do.

"Y-you... you won't like it, Quinn. I'm not sure you'll understand." Lux's voice was a muffled whisper as she spoke into Quinn's shoulder instead of to her, unable to look her friend in the eyes. She felt like she had betrayed her, and that hurt much more than anything that would happen to her family.

Quinn hugged her a little tighter before pulling away slightly, trying to meet Lux's eyes. "Even if I don't like it, I'm going to try to understand. I'm not here to judge you, I'm here to help you in any way I can."  
"I don't deserve that. This is... You shouldn't be so good to me." She pulled away further, unable to let herself drink in more of Quinn's comfort. Surely Quinn would be angry with her, and leave. Perhaps she would even inform Lux's superiors, though she hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Quinn nearly rolled her eyes, only stopping for fear of it damaging Lux's already fragile state. She put her hands on Lux's shoulders, putting more than a gentle pressure there. "I want to help you, Lux. Don't say cruel things about yourself, you do not deserve that. What could you have done, that was so bad?"

Lux looked away. She didn't want to feel ashamed for what she had done. She didn't feel ashamed. And that would probably hurt Quinn most of all. "I... ah... fell in love? With someone dangerous?"

Quinn's eyebrows shot up, but she attempted to keep her face neutral. "In this world, there are few who are not dangerous, you know."

Lux muttered her next words, already cringing back from Quinn's reaction. "AdangerousNoxianassassin." She looked away, pretending to be very interested in her bedspread.

"You.. wanna run that by me again?" Quinn thought she had heard right, and she had promised no judgment, of course. "You're not going to fight Garen for Katarina, are you?" Perhaps a joke would convince Lux to look at her again.

"Me and... Katarina? Nononono guess again." Lux was stifling a giggle now, glad that Quinn was reacting as well as she was.

"Has to be tall, dark, and covered in knives, then. Though, I suppose that almost still describes Katarina." Quinn let out a giggle of her own, lightly shoving Lux back against her pillows. The pillows that still smelled like Talon.

Lux's giggles stopped abruptly, and the tears threatened to come again. "He's missing, you know. I've checked his house, all of the places he hides, the Institute, everything. He..." She took a deep breath. She could trust Quinn. "He went to check up on a clue about General Du Couteau, promised me he'd be back in no more than three days. Told me he'd send a letter through Cassiopeia if anything went wrong." She was hugging her pillow to her chest again, rocking back and forth as she spilled everything. "Cassiopeia hasn't gotten any letters. It's been nine days." And there it was, all laid out in the open, and the dam was breaking again. She was sobbing into the pillow, and despite Quinn's attempts at comfort once again, her world was grey and colorless, devoid of any hope at all. She had told herself she was prepared for something like this. That her training would serve her well. She was wrong.


	20. Fortitude

She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. It would be okay. She was going to make it through this, and everything would work out. Both of her hands were clenched into fists as she waited for the brilliant light to come and take her to the Rift to fight. It had been a week and a half since she had showed up here, but her sense had finally won out. Not her sense of duty, or what was right, but her idea of what he would want.

The light was warm and familiar as the summoner's magic wrapped arond her, drawing a smile to her face. She could do this. Settling into the normal routine of emptying her mind to focus on the battle to come, she shoved her worries aside. Her plethora of personal issues could wait, and she could lose herself in the battle. It couldn't hurt if she didn't let it. A few last tears ran down her face before she pasted her bright smile back on, and greeted her summoner cheerily.


	21. Vacation

"What about Ionia?" she suggested, poking him in the side with her pencil as they leafed through the travel book.

"... think about that for a second." His voice was flat, but she could see the beginnings of a smile on his face as one of his hands idly played with her hair.

"Okay, maybe not! But we could... go to... hm. There's not a lot of places I can take you, you know." She began to chew on her thumbnail, barely paying attention to what she was doing until he reached up to stop her, lightly slapping her hand away from her mouth. "Sorry." She mumbled, tucking her hand under her head and resting her elbow on his shoulder instead.

"You're the one who asked me to stop you, you know."

"I don't even notice I do it, really!" She dug her elbow in slightly, drawing a small groan of pain out of him. "... sorry!" She squeaked, pulling her arm in again.

"I have an idea." He drew her closer, leaning her head against his chest and wrapping his arms around her. "What if we call this a vacation, and just stay here?"


	22. Mother Nature

Lux laid back on the slightly prickly grass and spread her arms out. She couldn't quite remember when she had last been so relaxed, either without any cares or just flat out ignoring her problems. She was in a small grassy clearing, hidden by Soraka's blessing and unless her calculations were wrong (they rarely were), Talon should be joining her some time in the next five minutes. Staring up at the interlocking green branches above her, she lazily twirled a strand of her hair around her finger. Relax. That's what she was going to do, even if it killed her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rustling leaves, and next thing she knew, he had swooped down on her and dug his hands into her sides. In a completely un-Talon-like move, he began to tickle her mercilessly. Through her giggling and trying to wriggle away from his mild form of torture, she managed to choke out a surrender. The playful look in his eyes flashed into something almost predatory at that. "Surrender, hmm? Are you willing to agree to my terms?"

Breathing hard, she couldn't help but grin. His "terms" would probably prove to be lots of fun for her. Meeting the look in his eyes with a mischievous one of her own, she nodded. "Let's hear them."

In answer, he pulled off his heavy cape, an entire layer of clothing soon to join it in a neat pile on the grass. "I think I'd rather show you." His reply was almost a growl as he swooped down on her again, hooking his fingers in the bottom of her tank top. She lifted her torso in reply, allowing him to pull her shirt up and over her head. Her breathing sped up for a different reason now as his hand traced small circles on her stomach, occasionally dipping lower and drawing a tiny gasp from her every time. Her hands slid under his thin tshirt, spreading her fingers out and mapping out the skin she knew so well already. A scar here, a healing cut there, she gently caressed it all, moving up higher and slowly removing his shirt as she went.

Almost before either of them knew what was happening, her leggings and his pants had joined the growing pile of clothing, and skin was pressed against skin, warm and slightly sticky with sweat. Her hands scratched along his back as she tried to pull him closer, closer than was even possible. He stopped then, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces, and a thought hit her then. She began to giggle through the haze of pleasure, only laughing harder at the confused look on his face.

"I-" she stopped to giggle again, "don't think this is what Soraka had in mind," she finished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was almost smut and then I chickened out OOPS.


	23. Cat

"Katarina thinks there's something wrong with me." He broke their comfortable silence with something completely unrelated to the situation at hand. One of his hands was lazily tangled into her hair, the other resting on her stomach, and her legs were thrown over his, practically using him as a chair. It was a rare moment of peace and quiet for them, with no obligations to drag them away, no people to dodge, only to hide from together. 

"And why is that?" She shifted on top of him, stretching her arms up and almost hitting him in the face before reaching down to entwine her hand with his on top of her stomach. The easy, relaxed way they were laying together was exactly what she needed. The comfort of everything seeming okay, ignoring anything that she should be worrying about. 

"I'm acting "strange" and she's worried that the rejection from yet another dead end has "seriously screwed" me up. Not that she said she's worried. She criticized my techniques instead."

"Aw, she does care." Lux giggled at the thought of Katarina worrying over him, with the redhead trying her damnedest not to actually show how she felt, hiding it behind gruffness and barbed compliments. Yes, she could picture it almost perfectly. 

"Apparently she cares enough to buy me a companion," he said dryly, rolling his eyes at the thought. Really, a companion? His sister must be out of her mind.  
Lux's giggles stopped abruptly. "What kind of companion?" She twisted her body around so she could look at him, thoughts of paid women running through her head. Would Katarina... yes, she would, if she thought it would help Talon. Or if it would irk him, actually.

A knock at the door, followed by a flurry of footsteps, interrupted his reply. He untangled their legs, shifting her to the couch next to him and exiting the room, pulling the door shut with a finger to his lips. Opening the door, he had a strange feeling of dread in his stomach. What had Katarina planned?

"Meeeeeeeeeeerooow." A loud, slightly irritating noise greeted him from the ground, a leash tied to his doorknob and a box of various supplies next to it. A companion... animal. Katarina brought him a cat. At least Lux had nothing to worry about.

With a sigh, he brought it inside. He was not going to name it, and neither was Lux. He would take it to Cassiopeia tomorrow. She liked these types of things, and if he was lucky, Katarina wouldn't have told her about the generous gift yet. He groaned, realizing he wouldn't be lucky. Sometimes his sisters were more of a pain than a joy.


	24. No Time

It was like his world had stopped. Sounds were only a dull roar to be ignored. All he could see was the axe sliding cleanly in and back out, her blood going everywhere. Over and over again, the scene repeated itself, her small body crumpling to the ground without a sound. Somewhere in the far off, still functioning section of his mind, he registered someone shaking his shoulder, asking him what the hell was wrong with him. The word "wrong" got through to him, adding to the loop he was replaying in his head, watching her die as he failed again and again.

He must have fallen to his knees at some point, with the next thing he remembered being Katarina pulling him up roughly and taking him home. Memories came in bits and pieces, bits of Katarina telling him harshly to get over it, pieces of Cassi running her clawed hand over his back in a weak attempt to comfort him. The only constant was the biting reminder that she was gone and he had watched it happen. Done nothing as she bled out in front of him. He dully registered Cassi telling him that it wasn't his fault, and she was sure Lux didn't blame him. He spoke up then, quietly. Of course she didn't blame him, he told her. Cassi's face lit up at this, thinking they were making progress, that maybe things would be okay again. And then he continued, and her face fell into a frown. She couldn't blame him, he continued, because she was dead, and dead girls couldn't blame anyone. They were gone. Cassi quietly went back to running her hand along his back as though he hadn't said anything at all.


	25. Trouble Lurking

With them, it was always something. Something would happen, a dangerous mission, a threatening note, maybe a bit of torture here and there. There was always some new problem right around the corner. So really, when he woke up with a very sharp knife pressed to his throat, it shouldn't have surprised him. And he certainly shouldn't have laughed, because the movement pressed the edge in, drawing blood with an annoying stab of pain.

"You think this is funny?" She hissed, lifting her blade slightly and digging her heel into his side instead. "Lost your goddamn drive, right? Or maybe you were directing too much energy into being a traitor."  
He couldn't help it. He laughed again, earning a swift kick to his rib cage. "Me, a traitor, sister? What of you and that captain?"

A snarl this time, and the knife pressed into his throat again. "It's not the same and you know it. He's a toy. She's... you care for her. After all we did for you!"

"I wasn't aware that my personal life was also the property of Noxus. I've done nothing to hurt your precious home, Kat." He kept his voice level, refusing to show any emotion, especially fear. She would recognize fear, and she would take it for weakness. And perhaps it was, though the fear was not for himself, despite the cool edge digging into his skin with every breath he drew. No, there was no selfish terror, only a cold dread spreading deep in his chest, worry for her. For what it would do to her if Katarina left him dead tonight. For what would happen if Katarina went after her instead.

"Nothing to hurt my home?" She let out a sharp bark of laughter. "I wonder, then, where our slippery prisoner escaped to, a few months ago. I imagine she was covered in small cuts and bruises, drenched in rain. Probably crying, as she slipped into your house and your bed. And what did you do?! You let her in, protected her. You knew better! You should have-!" Her voice broke off, sentence ending in a strangled cry as she plunged the knife into the bed next to his head.

"Kat, I..." he trailed off before he'd even began. There was nothing he could say.

"Don't." She snarled. "Don't you dare. I trusted you." And with that, she fled his bedroom and then his house, door slamming behind her.

He collapsed back into his pillows, careful to avoid the knife embedded into his mattress. This was going to be a problem.


	26. Tears

She wasn't sure, yet, what was wrong. But there had to be something, for he had missed their meeting, and that was unlike him. Add to that his unlocked front door, and the dagger stuck deep in the bed where she usually slept... Perhaps a smarter girl would have left at that. But despite her prodigal intelligence, she was going to stay.

Quietly, she locked the door behind her and began checking the windows. A lock wouldn't deter the truly intent or dangerous, but it couldn't hurt either. Finally satisfied with the state of the small house, she took a seat out of sight of the door to wait. It bothered her, drove her just a little bit more insane, that she had no idea what had happened, or where he had gone. The door open, the knife in the bed. But there was no blood, she had checked with her heart in her throat. Searched the entire house top to bottom for a body, a note, the tiniest splatter of blood. Nothing. Most of his things were as he tended to leave them, in neat, orderly rows and stacks.

She tapped her baton on her hand lightly, eyes still locked onto the front door, with an occasional glance behind her to the kitchen. Taptaptap, a constant rhythm for her to concentrate on instead of the needling feeling of worry. 

The scrape of a key in the lock drew her to her feet, casting out with her baton to conceal herself, preparing for a confrontation. Instead, she saw a familiar knife, followed by a familiar frame. A low chuckle filled the previously silent room as he stepped forward, arms spread in her general direction. "I can feel your magic, Lux." He told her, eyes searching a spot several inches to the left of her.

She dropped the spell quickly at that, darting around him and closing the door again. Keeping her baton clutched tightly in her hand, she approached him, worry making itself known. He was too calm, too collected, even for him. "What happened, Talon? Don't tell me it was nothing."

Another chuckle as he pulled his hood down. "I hoped you wouldn't come, you know. That you'd be angry at me, for not coming today." He sank heavily into the chair she had vacated, not meeting her eyes, though he could see them now.

"Talon." The name came out sharp, harsher than she intended. "What happened?" She had both hands on her baton now, clinging to it as though it would stop her from falling apart.

He ran a hand over his face and up through his hair, avoiding her question for a moment longer. He knew he would have to tell her, of course. And he didn't like admitting that he was afraid, and not just for her this time. He was afraid of what would happen, what would be done. "Katarina happened. Broke in, called me a traitor, held a knife to my throat. Du Couteau family things."

Lux swallowed hard. She couldn't say she wasn't a bit afraid of Katarina. The other woman could definitely have the upper hand in a fight, and she didn't fight fair. Thinking of her, crouched over Talon with one of her razor sharp daggers to his throat, scared her more than she would tell him. She closed the distance between them, and lightly ran her fingers over the barely scabbed over wounds on his throat. Katarina had come and toyed with him, left little reminders of what could happen. Her voice came out in a rough whisper, when she could finally respond. "Did she hurt you anywhere else? What can I do?"

He closed his eyes, unable to answer her yet. The small cuts on his throat were nothing compared to the ice spreading in the place where his heart should be. Everything they had worked for over the last few months was about to come crumbling down, and there was nothing either of them would be able to do about it. He sighed and pulled her onto his lap gently, wrapping his arms around her waist like he so often did. The familiarity of it was a slight comfort, and as he answered her, he was glad he had thought to close his eyes. If they were shut, she wouldn't be able to see the tears that were there. "No, she didn't hurt me anywhere else. But I don't think there's anything to be done. We just have to wait."


End file.
